


Breathing Underwater

by caelestisxyz



Series: Prompts [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Honestly the entire thing might be cliche but whatever lol, Light Angst, M/M, Omega Kozume Kenma, Omega Verse, Post High School, Sexual Content, Starts off cliche, small time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelestisxyz/pseuds/caelestisxyz
Summary: "Kenma is broken; he’s a defect. He was born an omega and he’s taken several blood tests to confirm it. Every three months, he has a heat just like any other omega. The only difference between Kenma and most omegas is that he doesn’t have scent glands which means he can’t produce any pheromones."





	Breathing Underwater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elobs15](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Elobs15).



> I wrote this as a gift/prompt. Thanks for being awesome, Elobs15 <3  
> I've never written for this ship before but now I have to admit that I wouldn't mind writing more for them haha!

“Don’t mind, don’t mind,” one of his teammates shouts encouragingly, a loud handclap complimenting each word. Kenma isn’t sure who the voice belongs to, but his guess is that it’s Yaku.

One of their teammates who’ve been watching the scrimmage from the sidelines picks up the ball as it rolls out of bounds and tosses it to Kuroo. Then, Kuroo tosses it to Kenma so that the practice match can resume. Normally, Kenma would have caught the ball, no problem. Honestly, he would have never screwed up in the first place; not to this extent.

But Kenma isn’t himself today.

The ball bounces off Kenma’s shoulder. It doesn’t hurt yet Kenma falls to the polished floor anyway, clutching his sides and whimpering quietly. Almost instantly, everyone in the gym freezes except for Kuroo.

“Kenma!” Kuroo rushes to Kenma’s side and kneels on the floor beside him, his shoes squeaking. “Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?!”

Cold sweat gathers on Kenma’s forehead and his cupid’s brow, his hair sticking to his face. Hot. Everything feels so unbearably hot. Kenma’s throat is parched and scratchy, all of the saliva in his mouth has dried out and he can’t produce anymore. He feels like he’ll black out in any moment, but he’s afraid of what will happen to him while he’s unconscious. He’s afraid that if he surrenders to the darkness he’ll never break free.

“Is he alright?” someone from the opposing teams asks, their voice high-pitched, frantic.

In this state, Kenma can differentiate between the various scents of each player better. That’s how he knows that it’s Kuroo who picks him up and carries him away from prying eyes. It’s how he knows that Bokuto Koutarou, a player from the opposing team, is the one who’s following after Kuroo, constantly asking if he’s okay.

“I don’t know!” Kuroo snaps, his fear making him irritable. “He’s never acted like this before!”

 _Yes, I have,_ Kenma thinks amidst his internal turmoil, _I’ve just been careful enough to not let you see._

Kenma’s eyes flutter open as his head slowly moves from side to side, taking in his new surroundings. They’re in the locker room now. The moment Kenma realizes this is the exact moment the strong, dominating scents that linger attack his senses and send him into a heat-fueled frenzy.

Screaming in agony, Kenma curls up on the bench, hot tears streaming down his flushed face. He clenches his teeth so hard that a vertical vein forms down the middle of his forehead and his eyes bulge.

“Go get Coach!” Kuroo shouts to someone in the distance. “Hurry!”

Kuroo touches Kenma's shoulder and it burns. Kenma recoils from his best friend’s touch.

Bokuto moves closer. “Do you think it’s his heat?!” he asks.

That’s exactly what Kenma is experiencing right now and yet…

“No, he’s a beta,” Kuroo says, shaking his head, a grim expression on his face. “We’d be able to tell if that was the case. He’s not even giving off a scent.”

That’s because Kenma is broken; he’s a defect.

Kenma was born an omega and he’s taken several blood tests to confirm it.

Every three months, he has a heat just like any other omega. The only difference between Kenma and most omegas is that he doesn’t have scent glands which means he can’t produce any pheromones. There are two, healthy alphas hovering over him, but neither of them can sense it. Neither of them can identify the source of Kenma’s pain, they can’t relieve his agony, and he can’t open his mouth to beg for what he needs because the pain is too overwhelming.

So Kenma will suffer alone like he’s always suffered whenever his heat came. He should be used to it by now. He isn’t.

“What’s taking so fucking long?” Kuroo is crying now yet he tries to hide it. “Stay here, keep an eye on him, please. I’m gonna go see about an ambulance.”

Kenma really wants Kuroo to stay. They’ve been friends since childhood and he’s always found comfort in Kuroo’s scent. Too bad he can’t voice that. Whenever he tries to open his mouth, a choked groan comes out and the inability to verbally communicate only makes his pain all the more intense.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Bokuto is speaking to him now, his voice surprisingly gentle and controlled, nothing like how he is on the court. He sits on the bench next to Kenma’s head. “I’m here,” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Panicking, Kenma frantically glances around to see what the alpha is up to, but then he stiffens at the sudden feel of Bokuto’s strong hands on his shoulders.

Carefully, Bokuto gathers Kenma into his arms so that his upper body is resting against his broad chest while his legs remain on the bench. Kenma’s body relaxes when Bokuto begins nuzzling against his hair. Bokuto is scenting him. Why?

There’s nothing about Kenma that screams omega aside from his small stature and his skittish nature. Kenma doesn’t smell sweet like flowers; he doesn’t have a unique scent at all. He doesn’t have curves, full, child bearing hips, or a soothing aura.

Why is Bokuto scent marking him — an actual gremlin who spends all his free time playing video games and ignoring phone calls from friends— when he could be giving all of his attention and affection to the pretty, dark-haired omega on his own team. The skillful setter who's been putting Kenma to shame during the entire training camp.

Eventually, Kenma’s throat doesn’t feel so tight anymore and his head is no longer clouded. The pain is still there, but it isn’t as intense. Glancing up at Bokuto, Kenma is startled by the uncontained warmth swimming in the alpha’s bright, golden eyes.

“Feeling better?” Bokuto asks, smiling gently.

“Y-yes,” Kenma croaks.

“My younger sister is a beta too. Scenting helps her during her panic attacks. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.”

Except that this isn’t one of Kenma’s usual panic attacks; the small bulge in his shorts serves as evidence. Yet he doesn’t mention how badly he needs a knot right now, how badly he craves one. Because that will be enough to ruin the disguise he’s carefully crafted for himself and he isn’t going to allow one miscalculation to shift his entire world.

Soon, Kuroo returns with their coaches, the team’s manager, and an EMT. As Kenma is being rushed out of the locker room on a stretcher, he catches a glimpse of Bokuto’s face and for a brief, infinitesimal moment, he wishes that he didn’t have to hide inside this broken shell.

* * *

That was the last time Kenma ever saw Bokuto Koutarou. In person, at least.

After Kenma was rushed to the hospital that day, his secret was unintentionally revealed by a doctor, and because he lied about his second gender on his volleyball club application he was kicked off the team. That meant no more training camps. Although his teammates hadn’t openly expressed their disappointment, Kenma begged his parents to homeschool him because he couldn’t face them. His friendship with Kuroo gradually deteriorated, as well.

It was Kenma’s doing; he pushed Kuroo away out of guilt. It took two years for Kuroo to finally let him go. The alpha is too good of a person to be friends with Kenma, anyway. 

Seven years later, Kenma is a video game developer in Tokyo. He lives alone in a studio apartment that overlooks the city, and he makes enough money to take a holiday at least twice a year. In his opinion, he’s very successful. However, his parents think otherwise. To them, success is determined by having a mate, at least two pups, and a third on the way.

Kenma has come to the conclusion that he’ll never be successful in his parent’s eyes and he’s more than fine with that.

“Those boys sure are talented,” an older colleague says, pointing at the LCD screen in the employee break room.

Japan’s national volleyball team is currently engaged in an intense match against Indonesia. Depending on the results of the game, Japan will secure another spot in the upcoming Olympic games. There’s a lot riding on this game.

But Kenma believes Japan will win. Kuroo and Bokuto make one hell of a team as is, but there’s also Oikawa Tooru, Ninshinoya Yuu, Ushijima Wakatoshi— all playing for the same team. There’s no way they’ll lose.

Another employee, around Kenma’s age, says, “Think they’ll take us to the Olympics?”

“I’m not sure. What do you think, Kozume-san?”

“Hard to say,” Kenma says, scooting his chair back from the table. He picks up his red coffee tumbler and heads for the door. “I’ve got work to finish up.”

On his way to his office, he can hear the thunderous cheers erupting from the break room as Japan scores again. When he was younger he entertained thoughts of playing professionally alongside his best friend and even if he was never good enough to make the team, he thought he’d be there in the stands, cheering for Kuroo alongside thousands of fans.

Instead, Kenma is working on the finishing touches for a new mobile game that is set to release by the end of next week. The most he can do is root for Kuroo(and Bokuto) inside his head. 

* * *

Two weeks after Japan beats Indonesia and a week after Kenma’s new game is released, he ends up seeing a familiar face in the unlikeliest of places: a seedy nightclub.

The days leading up to his heats, he likes to go out to nightclubs and bars to find someone who’ll take him home for the night for detached sex. His heats are more bearable if he does that. Kenma isn’t sure why that is.

Kenma’s walking away from the restrooms when he hears someone calling his name. Not _Kozume-san_ like everyone he’s met from his university years and onward, but…

“Kenma! Hey, Kenma!”

It’s difficult to recognize the person’s voice because of the booming music and buzzing chatter of the crowd. But then the person walks up behind him and he can smell them. He recognizes the scent.

“I knew that was you,” Bokuto says, making sure he can be heard over the loud music. He walks around Kenma so that they’re standing face to face; face to chest really. Bokuto is still as broad as ever and Kenma has only grown a few inches since high school. “How’s it been?”

“Bokuto-san,” he greets, bowing nervously, “I...I didn’t expect to see you here...”

“Huh?” Bokuto’s platinum-dyed eyebrows furrow as he struggles to make out what Kenma said. Then his expression softens. “Follow me!” He takes Kenma by the hand and begins dragging him through the crowded club.

Kenma’s brain is still trying to process what’s going on so he doesn’t attempt to pull away like he might have done if anyone started yanking him around. They walk up to the second floor and from where Kenma is standing, he can see some familiar faces sitting in the VIP lounge and he fears that Bokuto intends to take him there. He’s relieved when the alpha leads him in the opposite direction, to where the private rooms are located.

_Private rooms._

“It’s quieter in here,” Bokuto explains as uses a key to unlock one of the doors. Quickly, he shoves Kenma and in slips in behind him before shutting the door, locking it. “Don’t want any of my teammates bargin’ in.”

The private room is decorated moderately with a mini-bar, a flat screen television hanging on the wall, and a couple of lounge chairs. Kenma pretends not to notice the stripper pole standing in the middle of the room.

“Wow, you haven’t changed one bit,” Bokuto says, breaking the ice.

Kenma has changed, quite a lot actually. He’s taller, leaner than he was in high school. His hair is longer, almost past his shoulders, but he’s kept a similar style and color all these years. Instead of hiding his figure with oversized hoodies and sweatpants, Kenma embraces it with skinny jeans and shirts that are actually his size. He doesn’t hesitate before he speaks, and he doesn’t hunch his shoulders when he walks; probably because he isn’t staring down at a video game.

He’s still a gremlin, though. That’ll never change.

It’s Bokuto who hasn’t changed at all. He’s still very handsome, his aura is still bright enough to rival the sun with a blinding smile to match. And he’s still the alpha that Kenma wishes he could call his own.

“Neither have you, Bokuto-san.”

“Come on, you can call me Bokuto. It’s not like we’re strangers or anything.”

Feels like they are. One intimate moment in the locker room, seven years ago, isn’t enough to change that yet Kenma drops the honorific. Something tells him that if he doesn’t Bokuto will whine about it until he does.

“Bokuto,” Kenma says, testing the name on his tongue despite having said it before on numerous occasions. But this time he’s in public, not alone in his bed with his fingers shoved inside him and a pillow between his trembling thighs. “Didn’t expect a celebrity like you to be in a place like this.”

Bokuto chuckles; it’s warm and hearty. “I’m no celebrity,” the man whose face is plastered on cereal boxes and billboards modestly says, “and my teammates wanted to come to a lowkey place. Our coaches have been breathing down our necks lately.”

“Congratulations, by the way. Indonesia was pretty good this year but you all made it look easy.”

“You’ve been watching our games?” Bokuto asks, surprised and obviously pleased.

Kenma shrugs. “I’ve caught a couple of games.” He’s watched every single game and even the practice matches that fans record and upload to Vimeo. “Volleyball isn’t really my thing anymore.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Bokuto says it like Kenma just told him his pet died, not that he’s lost interest in a sport he used to play in high school. “I guess a couple of games is better than no games.” He smiles.

 _Positive as ever_ , Kenma fondly thinks.

They’re still standing by the door and it feels sort of awkward. Kenma glances at the seating area. Bokuto gets the hint. 

“I’m not holding you up or anything?” Bokuto asks as they take a seat on one of the loveseats that are big enough for two, their thighs nearly touching. “Did you come here alone or are you meeting a friend?”

Kenma doesn’t have any friends, and it’s never bothered him until now. He wonders how different his life would have turned out if he would have just accepted what he couldn’t change.

“I came here alone,” Kenma says.

“Never took you for the club-going type.”

“I’m not, usually.” One thing Kenma has learned over the years is how to be forward. It’s helped him a lot when dealing with his parents, his colleagues, and his hook-ups. He sees no point in reverting back to his old self now. “Hooking up before my heat comes helps.”

Bokuto nods in understanding. “Oh, I see.” A thoughtful pause passes. “Kuroo told me about what happened that day, back at training camp.” He glances at Kenma. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it.”

“There’s no way you could have known. Besides, it not as if you could have done anything about it.” He means to be reassuring, but it doesn’t come out that way.

“If you would have asked me, I would have gladly helped you, Kenma.” Bokuto’s voice drops in cadence, becoming deeper, rougher.

Kenma tries not to get too wrapped up in the “gladly” and what it suggests. The goal for tonight is to find a willing partner; preferably an alpha, who’ll fuck him until he’s satisfied and walk away when Kenma is done with them. The goal isn’t to take a stroll down memory lane or play catch up. Every moment Kenma spends on that couch, the heavier the anal plug in his ass feels; he’s dying to get it out and replace it with something bigger.

“I have an early morning,” Kenma starts, moving to stand up from the couch, “so I should get goi—”

Bokuto touches his arm. “We’re both here for the same thing so why don’t we just leave together? I can get us a room…”

“I thought you were dating your former teammate,” Kenma blurts out.

“Former teammate?”

“Akaashi-san.”

“Oh, Keiji,” Bokuto chuckles, his head shaking, “Keiji and I are best friends. He’s engaged, you know. Gonna marry an Engineer this spring.”

Of course, Akaashi Keiji is engaged. Pretty omegas like him don’t stay single for long.

This new information poses new problems, though. Because if Bokuto isn’t dating Akaashi, and he doesn’t appear to be dating anyone else, that means Kenma doesn’t have a reason not to accept Bokuto’s offer. It also means that Kenma may have had a shot with Bokuto seven years ago if he hadn’t been such a coward.

Bokuto scoots closer, the tiny space between them disappearing, bringing their thighs together. “I was disappointed when Kuroo told me you wouldn’t be coming to any more training camps,” he confesses quietly.

Kenma makes the amateur mistake of turning his head in Bokuto’s direction. All he has to do is tilt his head up a little and their lips will be touching. Kenma doesn’t close the distance, though. He’s afraid that if he does, Bokuto will pull away. He can’t stomach rejection right now, not so close to his heat when he’s more sensitive than usual.

“Why were you disappointed?” Kenma asks. He needs to know the reason more than he needs that anal plug out of his ass.

“Because I wanted to see you again,” Bokuto says and Kenma thinks that’s the end of it, but Bokuto continues, “I thought you were really pretty. Still do.”

“You thought I was pretty?” Kenma chuckles. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Not if you saw yourself like I do.” He leans closer, their breaths mingling. “Leave here with me, Kenma. Let me take care of you like I should’ve done that day at training camp.”

But Bokuto did take care of Kenma. Thanks to Bokuto, Kenma’s pain subsided and the days that followed weren’t nearly as unbearable as they would have been without Bokuto’s lingering scent on his skin. However, Bokuto wants to care for him in a way that an alpha cares for an omega in heat. It’s something Kenma has always wanted more than he’ll ever admit.

“Okay,” Kenma says, “but no hotels. I live close by.” While Kenma has nothing against hotels, he wants Bokuto in his bed. He wants to smell the alpha’s scent on his sheets and pillows for days to come. This, Kenma thinks, is a rare opportunity, he’d be a fool not to milk it for all its worth. “Your teammates won’t mind, will they?”

“Oikawa is here with Iwaizumi.” Bokuto suddenly remembers something. “Oh, that’s his fiance, by the way. They both played for Aobajousai in high school. And the other guys didn’t ride with us.”

“And Kuroo?” God, Kenma hasn’t said that name aloud in years. “Is he here too?”

“Nope. Kuroo doesn’t do clubs anymore now that he’s a committed man.”

“Committed man?”

Bokuto shifts uncomfortably, unsure of how much he should share. “Remember Tsukki—Tsukishima, he was a middle blocker for Karasuno?” Kenma nods. “They bonded last year.”

Kenma isn’t sure how to feel about that. On one hand, he’s happy that Kuroo has found the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with and on the other hand, he’s disappointed that he wasn’t there to tease his best friend throughout the courting process or lend an ear whenever Kuroo needed it because, if Tsukishima is as strong-willed as he was back in high school, he’s sure Kuroo would’ve definitely needed it.

“Wow,” Kenma says, not knowing what else to say, “seems like everyone’s paired off.”

“Except for us.” Bokuto gets off the couch and extends his hand for Kenma to take. “You say you live close?”

* * *

This is new. Usually, Kenma doesn’t bring anyone back to his place, preferring to hook up at the other person’s spot or a hotel so that he can make his escape that same night or early morning. Also, Kenma and his past hookups would be fucking by now; depending on the person, they’d be nearing the end by now. They wouldn’t still be making out on the bed, their jaws sore and their lips swollen.

Bokuto kisses exactly how Kenma imagined he would; he’s rough, but not too rough and his mouth is wet, but not too wet that it’s a turnoff. It’s a perfect balance that Kenma can’t get enough of. Bokuto nips Kenma’s lower lip, pulling a sharp gasp from Kenma’s mouth, then drags his tongue along the seam as if it’s an apology. Kenma feels dizzy, incredibly light. And his body feels as hot as it did on that day in the locker room.

Eventually, they both become restless, desiring more than the pleasure their mouths can give. Kenma is skilled when it comes to undressing quickly. Their clothes lie scattered on the bedroom floor.

At long last, Kenma can finally touch the muscles he’s been dying to see up close. Every part of Bokuto’s body is chiseled, sculpted. Kenma can’t help but drag his nails down Bokuto’s abdomen. The alpha makes the sexiest sound when Kenma’s nails reach his bulky thighs and over his kneecaps.

Bokuto grabs Kenma’s hands, pressing them above his head. “Don’t do that or I’ll break,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I want to take my time with you, Kenma.”

“If you hurry up now, we’ll have time for another round.”

“Damn, you’re right.” Bokuto smiles as he lowers himself to capture Kenma’s lips. “Forgot how smart you were…”

Kenma twines his arms around Bokuto’s neck and meets him halfway. He’s surprised by how natural it feels to kiss Bokuto like this and have their naked, sweaty bodies slide together. Makes him wonder if perhaps they were made for one another. Perhaps this is why neither of them has found the other halves of their soul. Perhaps they’ve been waiting for each other all along.

Bokuto’s kiss has lowered to Kenma’s belly button now and the kisses lower and lowers with every breath of air Kenma draws into his lungs. Then, Bokuto is kissing the tip of Kenma’s cock, tongue flicking out to lap at the precum. Kenma’s hips raise off the bed and Bokuto stops his teasing. He takes all of Kenma into his mouth, his nose touching the neatly trimmed strip of hair directly below Kenma’s navel.

Toes curling, Kenma digs his heels into the mattress, an unrestrained moan falling from his lips. Peeking his eyes open, he glances down at Bokuto, wanting to see for himself the source of his immense pleasure; he wants to sear the memory to his mind for when his heat comes. Kenma’s met by Bokuto’s intense gaze. The alpha stares up at him as he expertly bobs head.

He’s so enraptured by the sight that Kenma doesn’t notice when Bokuto’s hand disappears from his thigh, but he feels it when the alpha’s fingers brush against the anal plug.

It’s almost comical the way Bokuto pops his mouth off Kenma and sits up to inspect the hard object that’s blocking his fingers. When he notices the plug, Bokuto’s eyes widen.

“I guess you have changed,” Bokuto says, smiling sheepishly. Glancing down at the plug, he bites his wet lips. “That’s actually pretty sexy, Kenma.” He rubs his fingers over the base of the plug before grabbing it, and slowly pulling it out.

Kenma is so wet that the plug pushes itself out mid-way. Reaching between his legs, he picks the plug up and tosses it on the bed somewhere. Bokuto is on him instantly, his hands on Kenma’s face as he nudges Kenma’s thighs open with his knees. Their lips meet again. They lick and they bite and they lose themselves in one another.

Bokuto grabs Kenma’s thighs, pushing them back at the same time his thick cock is pushing inside of Kenma, stretching him a way that a simple toy never could. Once Bokuto bottoms out, they both sigh in unison, their foreheads touching and their bodies pressed close.

In his fantasies, Bokuto always mounted him or he was always rough and unforgiving. And while Kenma doesn’t mind a hard fuck, in fact, he prefers it that way, he’s pleased that Bokuto wants to take his time. He loves how Bokuto whispers endearments into his ear. He loves how Bokuto is sure to draw out the moment, restrain his thrusts so that Kenma can feel every ridge of his cock and every time his prostate is hit.

That’s how Kenma knows that this is more than just a hookup for Bokuto. It’s more than an outlet for stress. Nothing will more than likely come from this. Both of them lead different lives and there are other factors that complicate things. Still, Kenma doesn’t allow that to ruin their time together.

Legs secured around Bokuto's hips, Kenma rakes his nails down Bokuto's back, all the way to the alpha's toned ass, feeling the muscles clench and unclench beneath his fingertips. Keeping his hands there, he raises his hips off the mattress and meets Bokuto's thrusts. He sucks Bokuto’s neck, tasting the salt from the alpha’s sweat. He sucks hard enough to break the capillaries underneath. The mark Kenma leaves isn’t permanent, but he knows Bokuto will never forget it long after it fades.

“Sure it’s okay that I did that?” Bokuto asks once their breathing returns to normal and their skin cools.

“I’m on the pill,” Kenma says, resting his chin on Bokuto’s chest. Realizing how familiar he’s become, he thinks about rolling over to his side of the bed. But Bokuto settles his arm on Kenma’s waist and pulls him closer.

Bokuto brushes a strand of hair away from Kenma’s face. “I wasn’t worried about that.” Idly, he plays with the ends of that same strand. “People only like to do that with people they care about.”

“I care about you.” There’s no going back after this. He might as well go big. “I’ve never stopped thinking about that day at training camp.”

“Me too.” He smiles, slow and easy. “You know, Kuroo still talks about you a lot. He misses you.”

Kenma misses Kuroo, too. But he isn’t sure if he’s quite ready to face Kuroo. Instead of keeping that inside, he confesses to Bokuto. Unsurprisingly, Bokuto understands him and he doesn’t push Kenma to make amends. Things will fall into place when they need to. Just like with them.

“We’ll be leaving for Beijing in a couple of days,” Bokuto says, “and we’re gonna be really busy before that. I have practice early in the morning.”

“Is this your way of telling me that you need to leave now?”

“What I’m trying to say is, I’d like to see you again when we get back. Is that okay?”

That can entail pretty much anything. Bokuto could want to see Kenma again for another hookup or something along those lines. Of course, Kenma wouldn't be opposed to that. It's just that the way he feels about Bokuto, he wants a whole lot more than sex. 

Bokuto must have read Kenma’s mind because he clarifies his intentions. “I want to take you out. If you think you can put up with me,” he chuckles, “I’d like to date you, Kenma.”

“Court me?” Kenma asks. He’s hopeful yet he masks it.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. I didn’t want to sound too old-fashioned, but if you’d prefer it that way, I can do that.” Bokuto picks up Kenma’s left hand and brings it up to his lips. “May I court you, Kenma-san?” he asks in all seriousness. 

Kenma can’t contain his smile, but he hides it by pressing his face closer to Bokuto’s chest. “After you ask my father’s permission,” he says.

“Okay, I can try to meet with him when we get back from Beijing and—”

“I’m joking, Bokuto. Yes, you can court me.”

Bokuto grins as he kisses Kenma’s hand. "I promise not to disappoint." 

They spend the remainder of the night planning future dates and filling one another in on the things they’d missed in each other’s lives. Kenma learns that Bokuto found him beautiful before he even knew he was an omega and that the alpha’s opinion hasn’t changed at all now that he knows of Kenma’s lack of scent glands. Kenma is relieved to hear that. So relieved. 

They talk for hours. Eventually, their conversation leads to hands and lips on skin and they experience each other all over again.

Come morning time, before Bokuto leaves for practice and after they exchange contact information, Bokuto leaves his shirt behind for Kenma to have during his next heat. And when Kenma’s heat after that rolls around, Bokuto is right there with him. 

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, please let me know :)  
> By the way, yes Kuroo and Kenma reconcile! Thanks to Bokuto of course ;)   
> Happy endings all around!!


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